Aspiration
by Sharn-sharn
Summary: Silverflame was always that fearless deputy that seemed to always be confident with whatever he did. But nobody knows that that image he projected was just that: a mask. He was once a scared little kit, an apprentice who didn't know where to turn, and, eventually, a warrior with hopes and dreams. Oneshot of Silverflame's life from Leaves in the Wind.


**Leaves in the Wind**

**The Untold Stories**

_Silverflame_

**. . .**

**Silverkit**

His Mother was gone.

That's Silverkit's first thought as he began to wake up.

Normally, his Mother would be right beside him, pressing into his tiny body and sharing her warmth.

But there was no sign of her.

Silverkit was afraid.

He was still very young, only a moon or so old.

But right at that moment, he felt scared.

Silverkit always felt scared when his Mother left. The nursery was fairly empty as he was one of the only kits to have been born to ThunderClan in the last few moons.

There was one other, and he was older than Silverkit by one half-moon.

His name was Mistkit.

But Mistkit was all the way in the other side of the nursery, his form nestled into the huge brambles.

Silverkit knew he was sleeping, but he was too afraid to fall asleep himself.

He knew something bad would happen if he was to fall He hadn't fallen asleep all night, either.

So Silverkit sat, cheek pressing into his paws and his eyes struggling to stay open.

A loud noise suddenly echoed around the entire camp.

Silverkit shot up.

His eyes narrowed

He'd had enough.

Without thinking of the consequences, Silverkit got to his paws and stalked over to the bramble entrance, his heart in his mouth.

What he saw would be sure to haunt his nightmares forever.

There was a battle raging.

Cats that Silverkit had never seen in his infinitely short life ran past him.

"To the warriors' den," one hissed under their breath. "We will kill Crowbreeze where he stands."

Silverkit's heart leaped, and he felt panicked.

They were going to kill the ThunderClan deputy!

Silverkit stood there, completely stunned. But then common sense took over and he hurriedly ran after the intruders.

He would stop them if it was the last thing he would do.

Silverkit ran as fast as his tiny paws would take him, and by fast, it wasn't very fast at all.

_Thud!_

Then his flight was abruptly cut short when he slammed into something hard and furry.

Silverkit groaned from the impact, and he shook his head to clear away the impending dizziness.

"Well, well," the thing that he was resting against rumbled. "What do we have here? A lost little kit?"

Silverkit looked up, and in his pain-filled haze, he was pierced by a pair of cold, cruel blue and green eyes.

Silverkit felt himself freeze up with fear, and he croaked out, "D-Don't hurt me, I was only trying to find Mummy."

The cat circled him, gazing down at him with those impossibly cold, haunting eyes. "Your Mummy?" the cat's lip curled, and he mewed, "Tell me, little kit, what's your name?"

Silverkit felt his lip tremble, but no matter what he did, _he could not look away._

"Tell me!" the cat snarled.

Silverkit flinched, raising his paws as if to protect himself.

Another voice cut through Silverkit's fear. One that he loved and greatly adored.

"Step away from my kit, Shroudstorm!" his Mother's voice hissed.

The cat turned around swiftly, then nodded stiffly. "Silverbreeze," he acknowledged curtly.

Silverkit immediately ran over to his Mother, pressing his form against her legs and purring frantically.

"Mummy," he sobbed. "Mummy."

His Mother took one look at him then snarled, "What did you do to my kit, Shroudstorm?!"

Shroudstorm sneered, spitting, "The only thing I did was inquire his _name_. Really, Silverbreeze, what's got you so worked up? It's just a _kit. _If I killed it, then I'd be doing it a favour! After all, you're not the type to care for such trivial things, much less _kits_," he drawled, disgust dripping from every word. "And are you saying it's _your _kit? Who's the father, Silverbreeze? Because right now, I'm beginning to think that you don't love me anymore."

Silverbreeze tucked Silverkit beneath her, and in a deathly quiet tone, she said, "Never doubt that I don't love you, Shroudstorm. And as for my kit, I had him with Nettlefur. The fool practically gave in the moment I asked. So now we're _mates_," scorn dipped from her words as she continued, "and the only reason _why _is because I didn't want Cinderstar or his faithful deputy to get suspicious. Believe me, I didn't even _love _the mouse-brain."

Silverkit was still frozen, but eventually, he whispered, "Does that mean that you don't love me, too, Mummy?"

Silverbreeze stiffened, and just when Silverkit thought that he had said the wrong thing, his Mother leaned down and licked his ears gently. "I love you more than StarClan, little kit," she murmured. "Never doubt that."

"Now that _that's _over with," Stormshroud interjected dryly, "can we please leave now, Silverbreeze? I'm sure that Shroudstorm is waiting for us at the border."

"Does that mean you succeeded?" Silverbreeze said anxiously. "Did you manage to kill Crowbreeze?"

"No," Stormshroud growled, then his lips curled into a smirk. "But we _did _manage to kill Cinderstar."

Silverbreeze laughed a bit coldly, and Silverkit was struck with how awful it sounded. "Good, we need to leave then. Silverkit, go back to the nursery."

Silverkit was at a loss for words. What was his Mother even _saying_?

"A-Are you leaving?" he mewed, the words feeling dry on his tongue.

Silverbreeze nodded curtly. "I can't stay in this hell hole of a Clan any longer, and while it saddens me to leave you, I know I _have _to do this. If nor for me, then for you."

_But why? _Silverkit wanted to scream, but he couldn't, the words just wouldn't leave his mouth.

_Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?_

"... _why_?" the whisper was lost in the wind, and Silverkit barely heard himself.

Silverbreeze's cold eyes softened, and she murmured, "I must. I loe you more than anything, Silverkit, don't you forget that."

Then she turned and Silverkit felt the perspiration pool in his eyes and wet his face with tears.

"Take me with you..." the plea seemed to fall on deaf ears, and Silverkit was forced to watch his Mother become smaller and smaller until he could no longer see her or the monster of a cat that had accompanied her.

"Silverkit?"

Silverkit grew still at the harsh whisper, and with fear coiling inside of him, he was turned.

He was forced to lay eyes on the cat that he least liked in the world.

With spindly, wiry grey fur, and vivid green eyes, it was his Father, Nettlefur.

In his entire moon of living, Silverkit had often wondered what had brang his parents together.

He knew for a fact that Silverbreeze had been the most beautiful she-cat in the camp and many toms had ached after her. So it had probably been a shock when Silverbreeze had the ugly and undependable Nettlefur for a mate.

A great shock, indeed.

"Where's Silverbreeze?" his Father hissed, the only pretty thing that he possessed flashing with fury.

"I-" Silverkit hesitated, and he knew that he would have to answer his Father or be punished, so he did, reluctantly mewing, "she left."

"She _what_?" Nettlefur near roared. With a very furious undertone, he hissed, "What did you say, you little monster?"

Silverkit felt himself flinch. There it was, the very reason why Nettlefur hated him so much.

Silverkit knew that his Mother had never loved his Father, it was plain in the way that she regarded him in general. But what Silverkit knew was that his Father was desperately, _desperately _in love with Silverbreeze.

Silverkit knew the reason why Nettlefur despised him was because of the fact that Silverbreeze loved her kit instead of her mate.

Nettlefur hated Silverkit because he was so wholly jealous that he was incapable of loving his own son.

And despite the fact that his Father would never love him, Silverkit straightened and said, "She's gone."

Silverkit saw the blow before he saw it, and it was so unexpected that he was knocked to the ground

His head was spinning, and he felt a strange hurt fester inside of himnat the thought that own his own _Father _had been the one to hit him.

Silverkit shakily got to his feet and spat, "If you don't want to believe me, then _fine_. I won't stop you!"

"Oh, I believe you, alright," Nettlefur hissed, green eyes flashing. "What I _don't _believe, however, is the fact that Silverbreeze left of her own free will. She must have been kidnapped!"

Silverkit would have laughed at his Father mockingly if it weren't for the fact that his head was pounding and his cheek was still stinging.

At least Nettlefur's claws had been sheathed when he had hit him.

Suddenly, Nettlefur swooped down and picked him up by the scruff.

Silverkit cried out in surprise and shock when his Father began to purposely head back to the nursery.

As Nettlefur walked, he passed a gathering of cats, and Silverkit felt him stop.

"Put me _down_!" he hissed, and he was midly surprised when his Father obliged, dropping himnto the ground with an air of disgust.

"_Gladly_," Nettlefur sneered.

Silverkit glared back up at him, then strained to hear the discussion that was taking place.

"... and I will depart to the moonstone at once," Crowbreeze was saying. "Frostheart will be in charge of the camp while I am gone."

Silverkit looked to where he believed Frostheart was.

She was a pretty she-cat with a long white coat and bright blue eyes.

Her head was leaning on another cat's shoulder.

He was smokey grey in colour and he was fairly large.

They were probably mates, Silverkit mused.

"That is all," Crowbreeze said. "You may all resume normal duties."

That was all it took before Silverkit found himself in his Father's jaws as Nettlefure approached the ThunderClan deputy.

"Crowbreeze," Nettlefur growled. "I need to tell you something?"

"Can this wait until I've come back from the moonstone?" the deputy inquired.

When Nettlefur shook his head, the other cat sighed.

"Very well," he mewed. "What do you want?"

Abruptly, Silverkit was dropped to the ground, and just as he righted himself, Nettlefur began to speak.

"Silverbreeze has been kidnapped," Nettlefur said, and Silverkit thought that his voice almost sounded crazy.

"Silverbreeze?" Crowbreeze said, "_kidnapped_?"

Nettlefur nodded eagerly. "Yes," he said, and then he motioned to Silverkit with his tail. "And _that _was the last thing to have seen her."

Crowbreeze looked deeply troubled, then-

"I will send out a patrol to scour the territory when I return."

"When you _return_?" Nettlefur sneered, and he almost sounded insane. "How about _now_?"

Crowbreeze glared down at the grey-furred warrior, and for a split-second of a second, Silverkit wondered how it would be if _he _could become leader one day.

_I rhink I'd like that_, Silverkit thought. _And when I __**do **__become leader, I'll make Nettlefur leave the Clan._

Yes, it was quite straight forward and simple.

Silverkit hated his Father.

He hated Nettlefur _so _much.

"It will happen when I return," the ThunderClan deputy said coldly. "No longer and no less."

"_Fine!_" Nettlefur snarled, and then he had Silverkit in his jaws again and was stalking toward the brambled nursery.

When they entered, Nettlefur padded to the furthest corner of the nursery and roughly dropped Silverkit to the ground.

"Stay here," Nettlefur hissed. "And pray that I don't see you until you've become an apprentice, you little monster."

He raised his paw as if in emphasis, and Silverkit found himself quivering in fear, perspiration pooling in his eyes.

Nettlefur saw the building tears and sneered. "You're a weak little thing, aren't you?"

When Silverkit didn't reply, his Father sneered once more in disgust and left the brambled nursery.

Silverkit pressed himself into the nest of moss, inhaling his Mother's already fading scent, sobs shaking his frame and tears streaming down his face.

_Why did you leave me, Mummy?_

**. . .**

Silverkit awoke from a restless sleep, and though his body ached and _burned_, a trickle of excitement filled him.

Today was the day that he would finally become an apprentice.

As if sharing the same thoughts, his friend, Mistkit, grinned at him across the nursery.

"Excited, Silverkit?" he drawled, blue eyes bright with amusement. "Today's the day that we finally become apprentices!"

Silverkit merely grunted in response, his gaze flicking around the nursery until they came to rest on two small figures curled up together.

They were both a fiery ginger colour, and Silverkit was suddenly glad that they weren't awake.

Foxkit and Rosekit tended to get carried away when they were awake.

Mistkit followed his gaze and grinned. "Got a crush on Rosekit, have you, Silverkit?"

Silverkit eyed his friend in disgust. "Don't be serious," he grumbled. "She's only three moons old. Besides, Nettlefur would kill me if I dared do anything without his permission."

Mistkit winced, and he looked sympathetic. "You really should tell Crowstar about how that mouse-brain treats you. I mean, he _abuses _you, for StarClan's sake!"

"Watch what you say!" Silverkit hissed. "Anyone could be listening in!"

Mistkit sighed. "Sorry," he muttered. "Well, we really should go before we're late."

Silverkit nodded curtly and glanced onenlast time at the slumbering bodies of Foxkit and Rosekit.

Before he knew it, Silverkit was standing before the entirety of ThunderClan, desperately trying to avoid his Father's mocking sneer.

_"You will fail" _his green eyes seemed to say. _"And I will laugh the entire time"._

Silverkit glared right back, and their identical green eyes met in a chilling glare.

"I have gathered you all here today to witness one of the most important days of a kit's life: their apprenticeship. Silverkit, Mistkit, if you would please step forward?"

Silverkit let a determined grin cover his face, and he stepped forward so that he was tanding next to Mistkit.

"Stormcloud," Crowstar began. "You are a warrior of exceptional strength and wisdom, and I believe that you are ready for your first apprentice. You will mentor Mistpaw."

The newly named Mistpaw let out a whoop, and he ran to his new mentor.

The pair touched noses, with Mistpaw grinning broadly.

Silverkit saw the ThunderClan leader discreetly glance to where Nettlefur was sitting.

A stab of horror went through him.

_StarClan, no_, he thought desperately, _anyone but __**him.**_

Crowstar opened his mouth, and Silverkit's heart was in his mouth, then-

"I will be Silverpaw's mentor."

There was total utter silence at his words, and Silverkit was shocked.

Crowstar wanted to be his _mentor_?

Silverkit glanced toward his Father.

Nettlefur's green eyes were glittering with anger, and instinctively, Silverkit flinched back as if to ward off the blow which he knew would be coming later.

He glanced away after that, and looked back up at the ThunderClan leader. If Crowstar wanted to be his mentor, then Silverkit would gladly accept him.

"Mistpaw, Silverpaw! Mistpaw, Silverpaw!" the Clan chanted as one.

Silverpaw smiled to himself, despite knowing what was awaiting him later.

**. . .**

**Silverpaw**

Silverpaw discreetly discreetly wandered past his Father, keeping his head down so as to avoid notice.

Notice lead to confrontation, and Silverpaw couldn't allow that.

So after that, Silverpaw simply wondered toward the apprentices' den, but he knew that his good luck would eventually run out.

As usual, the blow took him off guard, and Silverpaw was knocked to the ground with a pained grunt.

His head swimming and his cheek stinging, Silverpaw glared up at his enraged Father with cold green eyes.

"Touch me again," Silverpaw hissed, "and I'll tell Crowstar."

"I'd like to see you try," Nettlefur sneered.

Silverpaw growled as he got to his paws. "I hate you!" he spat.

He made sure to bump his Father's shoulder roughly as he passed and entered the den that he had dreamed of living in for over five moons.

Silverpaw sat down next to Mistpaw, scowling all the way.

His cheek was still stinging and he was in a horrible mood.

"Mouse-brain hit you again?" his friend whispered when he sat down.

Silverpaw nodded, disgruntled.

"You should tell someone," Mistpaw urged. "I'm really worried for you, Silverpaw."

"I'm not telling _anyone_," Silverpaw hissed. "It'll only give him the satisfaction he _wants _at seeing me get down on my paws and beg."

"Beg about what?"

Silverpaw and Mistpaw glanced toward the entrance.

The other two apprentices stood at the entrance, and Silverpaw felt his insides squirm. How much had they heard?

He recognised Blackpaw first. Because how could he not?

Blackpaw was the same as he remembered from when he had briefly shared the nursery with him. Black-furred and with an already arrogant grin to count.

Goldenpaw was the complete opposite, and Silverpaw noticed how Mistpaw stammered a hello and hurriedly looked away, blushing furiously.

Goldenpaw merely gazed back at the black-furred apprentice in confusion. Finally, she turned to Silverpaw and said, "Does he always do this?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Silverpaw said, "Not all the time. You'll understand when you get to know him better."

Goldenpaw gazed at him speculatively, a hesitant smile on her lips. Then _she _blushed and stalked away.

Silverpaw gazed at her retreating back in confusion. "What's up with her?"

Blackpaw shrugged. "Beats me."

The next day, Crowstar showed Silverpaw around the territory.

Silverpaw was amazed at how large the outside world was, and resolved to explore as much of it as he could.

Before Silverpaw knew it, three moons had passed.

All without one single hit from his Father.

In fact, Silverpaw could even go as far as to say that Nettlefur was _avoiding _him.

Not that he was complaining, of course.

It was one morning when Silverpaw was on his way to the fresh-kill pile that something abruptly slammed into him.

Grunting from collision, Silverpaw looked down, and when a pair of defiant blue eyes met his own green ones, he let out an inaudible sigh.

"Rosekit," he acknowledged, stepping to the side and allowing her to get through.

Rosekit nodded silently in thanks.

Silverpaw wondered where she was going in such a hurry.

He found out later.

Crowstar had made his kits apprentices, and appointed them Larkflight and Frostheart as mentors.

Goldenpaw and Blackpaw had received their warrior names two moons previously, and were now known as Goldenlily and Blackpelt respectively.

For two moons, it had just been Silverpaw and Mistpaw, but now that Foxpaw and Rosepaw would be joining them, then the den wouldn't feel so lonely anymore.

"Wait a minute, Foxpaw!" Silverpaw suddenly heard Rosepaw giggle. "I wanna go back to the nursery and tell Honeykit about my new mentor!"

Honeykit?

Silverpaw followed after Rosepaw, interested.

He'd never really spoken to Honeykit, mostly due to the fact that she had only been two moons when he had become an apprentice.

They reached the brambled nursery, and not once did Rosepaw question his motives.

"Hey, Honeykit!" Rosepaw greeted, sitting herself beside the kit. "I'm an apprentice and my mentor is some grumpy cat called Larkflight."

Honeykit nodded, then smiled shyly when she seemed to catch sight of Silverpaw.

Silverpaw was in a similar state, and he found himself timidly smiling back.

The near-apprentice's blue eyes glimmered, and Silverpaw found himself eying her fluffy golden fur.

She was very cute.

Silverpaw felt a blush creeping up his neck, and he felt horrified at where his thoughts where going.

He was crushing on a five moon old kit!

He left as if the entire place was infested with crow-food.

**. . .**

Another two moons passed, and Silverpaw found himself in front of the entire Clan receiving his warrior name.

"Silverpaw," Crowstar mewed. "Do you promise to uphold the code, to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your own life?"

"I do," Silverpaw murmured, even though his voice trembled, he was happy that he was proving his Father wrong.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Silverpaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Silverflame. StarClan honours your courage and wisdom, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan!"

Silverflame let a true smile grace his face, and staring at Nettlefur's strikingly impassive face, he mouthed, _"You can't hurt me anymore. I won't allow it."_

Nettlefur said nothing.

But before Silverflame could drown himself in his confusion and surprise, his beat friend tackled him from behind.

"Hey, Silverflame!" the newly named Mistfur greeted.

Silverflame grinned back, mewing, "Hi, Mistfur!"

**. . .**

**Silverflame**

Silverflame stretched out beside his old friend, and when the kinks were popped from his body, he sat up straight.

From his place beside him, Mistfur was gazing fixedly at something in the distance.

Silverflame followed his gaze, and when he saw exactly _who_ Mistfur was staring at, he chuckled lightly.

"Still have a crush on Goldenlily, Mistfur?" and for once, Silverflame's voice wasn't cold.

In fact, Silverflame could even go as far as to say that he didn't want to act as aloof and cold as he had been as an apprentice. He didn't why, maybe it was due to the fact that his Father hadn't dared to touch him ever since he had received his warrior name.

At the thought of his Father, he subconciously winced.

Nettlefur's treatment had done wonders to his mental stability.

He _still _had nightmares.

Silverflame shook his head, he didn't want to think about Nettlefur at the moment.

When Mistfur answered his question, his normally cheerful voice was glum.

"I don't have a crush on her, Silverflame."

"Oh?"

Mistfur sighed harshly, and he mewed, "I think... I think I'm in love with her, Silverflame."

Silverflame's eyes widened. "Love? With _Goldenlily_?" he got to his paws, saying, "That's great, Mistfur! When will you tell her?"

"Are you _dense _or something?" Mistfur snapped sharply, blue eyes narrowing to the point of slits. "I can't tell her that! She'd laugh in my face-" he took a deep breath, "-because she's in love with _you_, for StarClan's sake!"

Silverflame watched his friend for a moment, and when he was sure Mistfur had calmed down substantially, he said, "Goldenlily _isn't _in love with me, Mistfur. We've barely even spoken, for StarClan's sake! So you have nothing to worry about."

Mistfur had to look up at him as Silverflame was, by far, one of the largest cats in the camp. His blue eyes were steadily pooling with perspiration, and he sniffed, saying, "Do you really mean that, Silverflame?"

Silverflame nodded, and brushed the tip of his tail along his old friend's flank, mewing, "Yes, so get over there."

Mistfur grinned, and the cheerful glint that usually accompanied his blue eyes returned full force. "I'll get right on that."

With that said, the black-furred warrior got to his paws and padded over to where Goldenlily was chatting with the identical apprentices, Ravenpaw and her sister, Thistlepaw.

He watched as Mistfur waited for Goldenlily to turn before he began to talk excitedly.

Goldenlily appeared to have a hesitant smile on her lips, but a moment later, it faded into a shy one and she blushed at whatever Mistfur was saying.

Silverflame shook his head, a fond smile playing at his lips.

A days later, Silverflame was resting after the dawn patrol, and after he ate, he was planning on going hunting.

But it seemed as if he couldn't his own way for once.

"Silverflame!" and Silverflame knew that voice- it brought up unwanted memories of his kithood.

Silverflame looked up, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, and he bit out in coldly, "Nettlefur."

Netlefur sneered, and practically hiding behind the smaller grey tom was the distinct golden pelt of Honeypaw.

Her blue eyes were frightened and wary as she took in her mentor.

Silverflame winced in sympathy- Nettlefur was her mentor.

"I want _you_," Nettlefur gestured from Silverflame to Honeypelt, mewing, "to take Honeypaw to battle training. I have to go on a patrol, so you better do as I say. Or _else._"

"Or else _what_?" Silverflame snapped, green eyes flashing.

"You _know _what!" his Father spat darkly.

Silverflame stiffened, and he murmured coldly, "If you even _dare _to touch me, then I'll tell Crowstar of _every _transgressions you've performed against this Clan."

"I'd like to see you try!" Nettlefur growled.

Father and son glared at each other with murder in their identical green eyes.

A frightened whimper caught Silverflame's attention, and his cold eyes softened a fraction when he caught sight of Honeypaw's frozen body.

"Go on your patrol, then," Silverflame spat venomously, poison glinting in his eyes. He glanced at Honeypaw, mewing, "Honeypaw, let's go."

Honeypaw hurriedly followed after him, barely keeping up with his long, fast strides.

"Hey," she gasped, struggling to keep up. "Are we doing battle training like Nettlefur said?"

"Yes," Silverflame answered darkly, making the young apprentice wince. He then turned to Honeypaw, barking out, "Tell me, Honeypaw, how does Nettlefur conduct your battle training?"

Honeypaw bit down on her lip, and as she looked up, her blue eyes were hesitant. "Well, he, uh..."

"Yes?" Silverflame pressed, green eyes urgent.

Honeypaw sighed, before blurting, "He's- He's really mean! Whenever I do something wrong, he either yells at me or sends me to bed with no food. I... I _hate _him, Silverflame!"

The golden apprentice's eyes pooled with tears, and they began to steadily began to slip down down her cheeks, as she murmured, "Please let me change mentors. Nettlefur is the worst kind of sort and I don't want to have anything to do with him."

Sympathy filled Silverflame, and he pressed his side to the distraught apprentice's. "I'll talk to Crowstar about it," he promised, green eyes hard and firm. "But for now, just sit tight and relax. We still have battle training to complete, after all."

Honeypaw's eyes glittered in gratitude, and she wiped her tears away with a paw. "Do you really mean it?"

Silverflame nodded, and Honeypaw purred, pressing her smaller body against his. "I really hope that _you _will be my mentor, Silverflame," she murmured.

Silverflame swallowed heavily, and it wasn't just about the matter at hand.

Honeypaw was practically pressed up against him, for StarClan's sake!

A blush warmed his face at those particular thoughts, and Silverflame inwardly cursed himself.

_She's only an apprentice! _he thought furiously, _and __**you're **__a warrior!_

"Yes, I hope so, too," Silverflame murmured back.

They stayed that while for a while longer, until they were suddenly interrupted by a cough.

Silverflame's eyes snapped open, and he ripped himself away from Honeypaw, his blushing warming to unbearable heights.

Mistfur stood in front of him, a grin present on his face. Beside him stood Goldenlily.

The beautiful warrior looked flustered, and she was glaring playfully at the black-furred warrior sitting beside her.

"Now that you've stopped mooning after that apprentice," Mistfur said, and Silverflame glared at him. "I have some important news I need to tell you."

Silverflame's glare faded into a smirk, and he said, "And that is?"

If it were possible, Mistfur's grin seemed to take up the entirety of his face. "Goldenlily's expecting my kits!"

Silverflame's eyes widened. "Already?" he murmured. "You only became mates a few days ago."

Mistfur smiled sincerely. "Yeah, I know," he mewed. "It was a bit of a shock, but Goldenlily thinks she's ready. And if she's ready, then I am, too."

Silverflame leaned foreward, and because of his greater height, he easily placed his muzzle on top of Mistfur's jet-black head.

His green eyes were warm as he murmured, "Then may StarClan bless you and your kits."

When Silverflame pulled back, Mistfur looked very happy. "Thank you, old friend," he mewed. His eyes turned teasing as he added, "And may StarClan bless your road to love." As if to state a fact, his eyes flickered to Honeypaw.

Silverflame glared at his friend in exasperation, all the while blushing softly.

"Enough," he said. His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, "Besides, she's still an apprentice, Mistfur."

"Didn't stop Blackpelt," Mistfur muttered.

Silverflame rolled his eyes, but he had to admit that Mistfur was right.

As of the the past moon, Blackpelt had been sending Ravenpaw secretive glances full of something that Silverflame barely understood.

"Not my fault that Blackpelt is acting moony toward Ravenpaw," he muttered.

Mistfur rolled his eyes. "Go and train Honeypaw, would you?"

"Sure," Silverflame said, he said over his shoulder, "Honeypaw, come on. We still have your battle training to do. And after that, I'll see if I can get Crowstar to switch your mentor."

Honeypaw nodded in gratitude. "I'm coming!" she mewed.

Silverflame lead the golden apprentice all the way out to the training hollow, and he wasn't surprised to see a few of the other apprentices already there.

Rosepaw and her brother, Foxpaw, were there, including Thistlepaw.

All three of their mentors were there, and they looked up in surprise just as Silverflame entered the hollow with Honeypaw in tow.

"Silverflame?" Crowstar's brother, Nightfur, mewed in surprise. "I wasn't aware that you had an apprentice."

"She's not mine," Silverflame. "She's Nettlefur's apprentice."

Nightfur winced in sympathy, and he mewed, "He's a tough piece of work, isn't he?"

Silverflame nodded. "And that's exactly why I'm getting her a new mentor."

"Have you told Crowstar yet?" Nightfur prodded. "And who are you going to give her? It can't be you because you haven't even been a warrior for one half-moon."

Silverflame sighed harshly. "I don't know. I'm working on it."

"Silverflame," Honeypaw suddenly piped up. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You mean Nettlefur never taught you?"

Honeypaw seemed embarrassed as she mewed, "Well, yeah. Nettlefur only really yelled at me the entire moon that he was training me."

His teeth clenched together, and he murmured, "I'm very angry right now, Honeypaw. So I'll tell you what I need to know. After that, we'll go and see Crowstar. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

Honeypaw nodded happily.

Silverflame instructed her on battle moves.

The time passed quickly.

After training, Silverflame led his temperary apprentice to the leader's den.

"Crowstar?" he called. "I have something of grave importance I need to speak with you about."

A moment later, a familiar, harsh voice mewed, "You may enter, Silverflame."

Nodding to Honeypaw, Silverflame led her through the parted lichen.

Crowstar was lying in his bed of moss, and his blue eyes darted to them. "What did you need, Silverflame?"

Deciding to just approach the topic without lagging, Silverflame blurted, "I want to switch Honeypaw's mentorship."

There was a long silence, but Crowstar finally spoke, "And why is that?"

Silverflame stood there for a moment, unable to provide a plausible excuse, but it seemed that he didn't need to, for Honeypaw mewed, "Nettlefur is _mean_. He's uhnfair, he doesn't let me eat, and he yells at me. I _hate _him."

"Just because your mentor is unfair doesn't provide a plausible excuse to switch mentors, Honeypaw," Crowstar chided gently.

There was a finality in his tone- his decision was final.

And all Silverflame could think was, _No, I can't let her stay with Nettlefur_.

So, without thinking, without thinking of the consequences that could arise from such a declaration, Silverflame blurted, "You _can't _let Nettlefur abuse her any longer!" and in his voice was something that had remained since his kithood- fear.

He was so scared- so _terrified _of what his Father could do to Honeypaw if he ever got the chance.

And Silverflame wouldn't let Nettlefur get that chance.

He swore to the depths of StarClan itself that he would protect her.

Silverflame took hold of Crowstar's stunned face, and the ThunderClan leader mewed, "Did you just say that Nettlefur _abuses _Honeypaw?"

Swallowing harshly, Silverflame nodded. "Yes," he murmured. "Nettlefur has been Honeypaw. That's why I'm so desperate for her mentor to be changed. You do understand, don't you?"

The ThunderClan leader looked as if he had aged seasons at that exact moment. "Very well," he sighed. "I'll transfer Honeypaw to my sister, Rainflower. I'm sure she'll be happy to take our wayward apprentice under her wing."

Suddenly, Honeypaw pressed her form against his legs, purring all the way. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you _so _much."

Silverflame couldn't reply. Not only because of sweet, innocent Honeypaw pressed against, but also due to the fact that sheer terror was rushing through him, and his mind was chanting, _Great StarClan, Crowstar knows, he's going to tell Nettlefur, and- and- and- and-_

Nettlefur would be _there._

Crowstar's eyes widened, as if he seeemed to have realised something.

He got to his paws and padded to Silverflame, towering over him.

Suddenly, memories of his kithood flashed through his eyes- of Nettlefur towering over him, Nettlefur laughing as he cowered underneath him. And- and-

Crowstar was simply too large.

"Silverflame," his leader mewed, and his voice was so kind, so gentle. "Did Nettlefur...?"

Silverflame screwed his eyes shut, because he could feel liquid stinging the corners of his eyes and just-

_Couldn't take anymore of it._

"Yes," he sobbed. "He did."

Then Silverflame broke down, his head nestled on his old mentor's shoulder, and he couldn't take anymore.

Not with Honeypaw at risk.

Not with Nettlefur in the camp.

He stayed like that for a long time, and it wasn't until his tears were spent and exhaustion hung over him like a cloud did he finally pull back.

Silverflame flushed in embarrassment when he realised what had just happened.

He had cried like a little kit in front of his _leader_!

Crowstar noticed his embarrassment, and he mewed firmly, "Don't be ashamed, Silverflame. Never about this."

"Yeah," Honeypaw whispered, pressing her cheek against his side. "You don't need to feel bad about admitting this, Silverflame. It doesn't make you weak. It'd actually make you strong because it's _Nettlefur _that's the weak one."

Silverflame purred in gratitude, and he leaned his head down and swiftly licked Honeypaw's ears. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice cracking. He then looked up at Crowstar, surveying the ThunderClan leader with bloodshot green eyes. "What happens now, Crowstar?"

"Nettlefur pays for his crimes against two fellow Clanmates," Crowstar answered darkly.

"And how would you go about doing that?" Silverflame questioned.

"Banishment," the ThunderClan leader supplied. "I will banish him."

"And when will that happen?" Silverflame whispered.

"Now," Crowstar murmured. "So follow me, the both of you. I will announce it to the Clan."

Feeling shy and ashamed, Silverflame shook his head. "I... I don't want to see him, Crowstar," he muttered. "I'm too afraid."

Honeypaw soothingly ran the tip of her tail across his flank as she murmured, "You have nothing to be afraid of, Silverflame. You're bigger and stronger than him, and he's a horrible mouse-brain who dared to lay a paw on you."

"And you," Silverflame added before he could stop himself.

The smile that followed the sweetest, most innocent one he had been borne witness to, and it seemed to melt his insides and take his breath away.

Silverflame regretfully tore his eyes away from Honeypaw's face and followed after the ThunderClan leader with the golden apprentice at his heels.

His heart pounded in his chest as he and Honeypaw came to a stop beside Crowstar.

"All cats cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the high rock for a Clan meeting!"

Not a moment later, every Clan catlater available had seeated themselves beneath the high rock.

As Crowstar's voice rang loud and clear, Silverflame felt a sliver of trepidation.

Was Crowstar doing the right thing in banishing Nettlefur?

Would everything be alright in the end?

"... and I have decided to punish the offender as I see fit," Crowstar was saying, and Silverflame realised that he had blocked everything out.

The entire Clan waited with baited breath, and Crowstar mewed,

"Nettlefur, you are hereby banished from ThunderClan for your crimes against your fellow Clanmates."

Nettlefur hissed in derision as Stormcloud and Nightfur pushed him foreward.

"He's lying, I tell you!" the grey warrior declared, green eyes flashing. "That's all he's ever done, lied!"

"Silverflame would _never _lie about something like this!" Mistfur snarled. "And I've known about your treatment of him since we were kits. And I _would _have told Crowstar had Silverflame not sworn me to secrecy!"

Crowstar's voice was without remorse as he stated, "Stormcloud, Nightfur, please escort Nettlefur to the border."

Nettlefur was marched out of the camp, hissing and struggling the entire way.

Crowstar's eyes were weary as he mewed, "Rainflower will take over Honeypaw's training for now."

And he stalked the other way.

The cats dispersed.

Suddenly, Honeypaw buried her face into his shoulder, and Silverflame thought that she smelled like wild flowers.

"It's over now," she whispered. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

_No_, Silverflame thought, _it isn't over yet. Not by a long shot._

But for now, he would enjoy having Honeypaw so close, even for only a little while.

They were closer than before.

**. . .**

"She's so tiny," Silverflame marvelled.

"Mouse-brain," Mistfur nudged his shoulder playfully. "She's supposed to be tiny. She's only a day old, for StarClan's sake!"

"What's her name?" Silverflame mewed.

"Jetkit," Goldenlily murmured quietly, her amber eyes tired.

Jetkit, Silverflame mused, it suited her well.

The tiny kit was completely jet-black in colour- the same as her Father.

And as Silverflame had said earlier, Jetkit was incredibly small.

Smaller than usual, he's even say.

"It's just too bad that she's the only kit of her litter," Goldenlily sighed.

Mistfur grinned at his mate, the glint in his bright blue eyes teasing. "Oh, but we can't have that, can we, Goldenlily. We'll have to have _many _more litters before we're satisfied."

Goldenlily blushed brightly, and she hurried hit his head with her paw, huffing, "If I didn't love you so much, then I'd be hitting you _much _more harder with this paw."

Mistfur rolled his eyes, though his didn't dim. "And _that's _the exact reason why I fell in love with you."

Goldenlily playfully glared at her mate, but her amber eyes were filled with warmth.

Love.

Silverflame didn't think it was a surprise to _anyone _when Goldenlily and Mistfur had become mates. Mistfur had most likely been in love with Goldenlily since near the beginning of his apprenticeship, and his feelings had only become stronger when he had become a warrior.

"I hope that you will be the one to mentor her, Silverflame," Mistfur suddenly mewed.

"Hm?" Silverflame looked up. "You want me to mentor your kit, Mistfur?"

"Yeah!" his old friend said enthusiastically. "I mean, you did such a good job with Honeypaw, what with getting her a new mentor and all."

Silverflame flinched minutely at the reminder of his Father, but he knew that whatever he did wouldn't quell down the anger and disgust that Nettlefur's treatment had brang.

It was an old hurt, and no matter how far he buried it, it would remain there, as if taunting him.

Mistfur fixed him with a gentle look as he mewed, "Nettlefur's gone, Silverflame. He can't hurt you or _anyone _again."

Silverflame swallowed. "I know," he muttered roughly. "I know."

"Then why are you so tense?" Mistfur's voice was so _kind_, and suddenly, Silverflame got the insane urge to melt into the ground.

Anything to disappear.

"I... I have to leave," he swallowed, and bowed his head, padding toward the brambled entrance of the nursery he had spent the first six moons of his life in.

And everything came crashing down.

Silverflame didn't speak to anyone for _moons_.

**. . .**

"I hae gathered you all today to witness a very important occasion. That is, the apprentice ceremonies of Darkkit and Jetkit."

Silverflame watched on in silence as Crowstar beckoned the two kits foreward with a flick of his dark-grey tail.

"Grayfur," the ThunderClan leader rumbled. "You have been a warrior for many moons, and I believe that you are ready for your first apprentice. You will mentor Darkpaw, and I hope that you will pass down all that you know to him."

A few moments later, a large, broad-shouldered grey tabby padded foreward, and he towered over his new apprentice, piercing him with unfeeeling blue eyes.

As the pair touched noses, Silverflame felt a wince of sympathy rising. Grayfur was no pushover, and he could be very stern and critical when he wanted to. Silverflame pitied whoever took the stern cat as their mate.

Now, there was only Jetkit remaining, and the little black she-cat was trembling as Crowstar contined.

"Silverflame," Crowstar mewed. "You are a warrior whose courage and wisdom has not been preceeded. You will mentor Jetpaw, and I hope that you will teach her all the excellent skills that you have learnt."

Silverflame was shocked at his leader's decision, but a small thrill of excitement overcome him, nonetheless.

He padded toward his new apprentice, and when her blue eyes, so much like Mistfur's, snapped to him, they were unguarded and wary.

"I'm scared," she whispered, and her blue eyes were welling up with unshed tears.

Silverflame shushed her, and he murmured, "There's nothing to be afraid of. It might be overwhelming at first, but everything will get better in the end."

Jetpaw looked up at him, her eyes swimming with unsaid words and thoughts. "You really mean it?"

Silverflame felt a purr rumble through his throat. "Yes," he mewed.

Jetpaw bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you."

Silverflame smiled gently, and as they touched noses, he felt a _spark _of something.

_This kit's life is in your hands, son of Silverbreeze_, an unfamiliar voice whispered.

His eyes widened, and he pulled back sharply, his eyes instantly pierced by his apprentice's blue ones.

Silverflame sighed. "Excuse me," he murmured. "I'll show you the territory tomorrow, but for now I can settle with you having something to eat. After that, go to the apprentices' den. Get some rest, Jetpaw, we have a lot to get through with tomorrow."

Jetpaw nodded, and it was only a second later that she was swamped by her overprotective and prideful parents.

"I'm so proud of you, Jetpaw," Goldenlily wept, to which her daughter smiled faintly.

"I was so scared," Jetpaw confessed. "_Anyone _could have been my mentor. But I got Silverflame, and he's been really kind to me. I'm glad he's my mentor."

Silverflame smiled faintly, and he began to pad away.

"Silverflame!" a voice called, and he turned to see a pair of familiar blue eyes.

A wave of fondness hit him, and he purred. "Honeypelt," he greeted.

The wayward apprentice that Nettlefur had mistreated mistreated had become a warrior over two moons ago, receiving the name Honeypelt.

She had certainly grown into her beauty, too. Her golden pelt was sleek and shiny, and her blue eyes glimmered with some unknown emotion.

"How have you been?" the beautiful warrior asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Very good," Silverflame purred. "And you?"

"As much as I can be with all this guard duty and dawn patrol," she joked.

Silverflame smiled fondly.

He didn't know this feeling that Honeypelt made him feel, but he found that he liked it.

**. . .**

Silverflame yowled when something sharp raked across his face, surely nicking an ear in the process.

Beside him, his apprentice, Jetpaw, was valiently fighting off another cat, and she was panting harshly, clearly exhausted.

"Hold on, Jetpaw," he muttered. "It's almost over."

"I... don't know..." his apprentice huffed, "if I can."

"You must," Silverflame snapped, and he didn't feel an ounce of guilt for snapping at his apprentice.

It was justified when they were in the middle of a battle.

Jetpaw didn't even flinch.

Suddenly, a cry broke out over the yowls and growls of battle, "Crowstar is dead!"

At that declaration, Silverflame felt something sharp seize his heart.

Crowstar, the cat that he had looked up to like a Father, was dead.

Tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away.

Crowstar wouldn't have wanted him to cry.

A flash of red caught his attention, and Silverflame turned.

What he saw next would make him weep tears for such a tragic ending.

Crowstar's daughter, Rosestream, stood in front of a taller, larger tom.

His fur was as dark as the night sky, and his eyes were as bright as the blades of newleaf grass that dotted the camp once the snow cleared.

Silverflame recognised the tom as Thorntail, a warrior of ShadowClan.

Normally, the cat was incredibly vicous, but all Silverflame saw was tenderness for the beautiful she-cat seated in front of him.

They were gazing deep into each other's eyes, and Silverflame _knew _that Rosestream was in love with Thorntail.

And she didn't even know it.

Silverflame looked away from the heartbreaking scene as if he'd never seen it. Yes, it was forbidden, but he also knew that it was the only thing giving Rosestream happiness at the current moment.

Suddenly, a horrified yowl cut through the tense silence that had accompanied the battle.

Silverflame and Jetpaw turned, and he felt his heart drop at the scene before him.

It was sadder and heartbreaking than Rosestream's love for a ShadowClan warrior.

It was the blue-grey warrior, Stormcloud.

A bloody wound glistened on his neck, and his paws were shaking as he half-slumped, half-reclined against Frostheart's shoulder.

The white she-cat was choking back tears, but Silverflame could see the most tragic of sorrows in those ice-blue eyes of hers.

"What about your kits, Stormcloud?" Frostheart gasped.

"I will always be watching over them, Frostheart," Stormcloud whispered, his amber eyes glazed and filled with pain.

Frostheart sniffed, and when a tear ran down her cheek, Stormcloud shakily reached up and brushed it away with his paw.

"Hey," he whispered. "You're the ThunderClan leader now. You can't break down now, you have to be strong. And if you can't do it, then do it for me. And our kits."

"I love you, Stormcloud," Frostheart whimpered, her voice cracking. "I love you so much."

Stormcloud sighed, and a thin trail of blood rolled from his lips. "I love you, too, Frostheart. Take care of our kits..."

His paw slipped from Frostheart's face.

Frostheart seemed to gaze at her fallen mate with numb shock.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Frostheart bent her head and licked Stormcloud's eyes closed, her shoulders shaking from sobs and unshed tears.

The white warrior, Larkflight, attempted to comfort her, and the new ThunderClan leader sunk into him gratefully, sobbing the entire way.

Silverflame looked away, he didn't wish to see anymore.

"Silverflame?" Jetpaw asked. "Would you be as sad if it was _me _died?

Silverflame didn't look at her. "Yes, little one," he murmured. "I would be _very _sad. But death is a part of life."

Jetpaw looked relieved, but there was a strange glint in her eyes.

A wisdom of untold years.

"Thank you," she finally said. "It makes me better to know that I'm loved among my Clanmates."

Silverflame looked ahead, Rosestream's tragic love and Stormcloud's death playing clearly in his mind.

**. . .**

"Okay, _okay_!" Jetpaw's sounded. "I'll see you when I get back, okay?"

Silverflame watched on, a fond smile playing at his lips.

Jetpaw was surrounded by her siblings, one moon old Mosskit, Ashkit, and Darkkit.

Mosskit was a golden tom with bright amber eyes- a spitting image of his Mother, Goldenlily.

Darkkit was an ashy-grey colour, and he, like his brother, had inherited his Mother's amber eyes.

The last of the brothers was a Mistfur replica. Ashkit was a spitting image of his Father, right down to the dark fur and bright blue eyes. He was quieter than the others, more withdrawn.

Their foster-sister, Blackkit, was sitting glumly to the side.

Her kit features were pinched with the sadness of being a kit that never knew her Mother or Father.

Silverflame remembered her parents with startling clarity.

Blackpelt had been over the moon when his mate, Ravenfrost, had announced that she was expecting kits.

Blackpelt never got to meet his daughter.

Ravenfrost died in her kitting.

"Jetpaw," Silverflame called. "Hurry up, we're going."

Jetpaw rolled her eyes in exasperation, then licked each of her brothers goodbye, and even little Blackkit.

"I'll see you when I get back," Jetpaw called over her shoulder. "I have patrol with Silverflame and Larkflight."

"Bye, Jetpaw," Ashkit called softly. "I love you."

Jetpaw barely glanced at him as she distractedly murmured, "Yeah, love you, too."

"Any day now, Jetpaw," Silverflame called in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah," his apprentice answered. "I'm _coming_."

"Good."

Silverflame didn't bother waiting for his wayward apprentice, he padded toward the camp entrance and met with the ThunderClan deputy, Larkflight.

The white tom gave him a cool glance, mewing smoothly, "We're leaving."

Jetpaw had to run to catch up with them, and altogether, they patrolled the border that separated ThunderClan from ShadowClan.

Silverflame came to a stop when he noticed a foul, rank smell, and he followed the scent for a few tail-lengths before he came to a stop.

In front of him laid a half-rotted vole.

Larkflight came to a stop beside him, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. "Crowfood!" he spat. "And on our territory, no less!"

Silverflame sighed, but his exasperation quickly turned to alarm when Jetpaw suddenly appeared in his field of vision and began to swiftly push the pile of crowfood across the border.

"Jetpaw!" he snapped. "What are you _doing_?!"

When Jetpaw came back from across the border, her pretty features pinched tightly together. "Yuck!" she spat. "That was _foul_!"

Silverflame had had it. "Jetpaw!" he practically roared. "_What were you thinking?!"_

Jetpaw flinched, and for a moment, Silverflame was reminded of his own Father, and the terror he had felt at the paws of him.

But Nettlefur wasn't here, anymore.

He was gone.

Forever.

"I'm sorry, then!" Jetpaw shrieked.

Silverflame sighed harshly. "No, Jetpaw," he murmured. "_I'm _sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. But you have to understand, I was extremely worried when you crossed the border just to move a vole's corpse."

"It was only crowfood!" Jetpaw protested.

"I know, but-" Silverflame was suddenly cut off when a rustling echoed.

The next time Silverflame looked up, he saw two other cats standing in front of him.

His heart stopped.

One tom was big with scarred, patchy grey fur and cold amber eyes.

The other one was huge with blue fur and unfeeling blue eyes.

The blue one bowed his head to sniff at the carcass, and his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Who do you think placed the crowfood here, Shroudstorm?" the blue cat drawled, smirking when he finally looked up.

The other cat's eyes were cold as they specifically came to rest on Jetpaw. "The little one in the middle, Stormshroud," he growled.

Silverflame took a step foreward, shielding his apprentice with his body. "You need to run, Jetpaw," he said without looking at her. "Now."

Stormshroud's smirk widened. "Oh, you won't be going _anywhere_," he purred.

For the first time in his life, Silverflame felt blind terror crawl its way up his spine that wasn't caused by his Father.

And then he lunged.

Silverflame, caught off guard, was knocked rather violently to the ground, a heavy weight settling on top of him.

Silverflame coughed, and something unexpectedly crushed against his neck, cutting off his air supply.

"One slice," Stormshroud mewed darkly. "One slice and you will be dead. Too bad your Mother would kill _me _if something were to happen to you."

Silverflame hissed, and he shoved the bigger, stronger cat off of him, hissing, "My _Mother_! Tell me, just where _is _Silverbreeze?"

"As if _I'd _know," Stormshroud spat cynically, fixing his malicious blue gaze on him. "Now, weren't we just getting to the part where I'd kill you? Now, Shroudstorm!"

Silverflame looked over his shoulder quickly, and Jetpaw's terrified blue gaze caught his.

_"Help me" _they seemed to say.

"Wait!" Silverflame spat.

To his surprise, the grey tabby halted his attack, though very sparingly. His paw still rested against Jetpaw's neck.

"Take me instead," Silverflame found himself babbling. "Let them go, and take me instead!"

Stormshroud shot him a very ugly look and he sneered. "How about... _no_?" he offered.

Silverflame growled, before roaring, "Run Larkflight! Take Jetpaw with you and _run_!"

Stormshroud smirked. "Too late," he said silkily.

And before Silverflame knew it, Shroudstorm had dragged his unsheathed claws across Jetpaw's throat, and- and-

His apprentice _screamed._

Shroudstorm dropped Jetpaw to the ground, his cold eyes satisfied.

Silverflame's eyes were wide, wide, _wide _as he took in the scene before him.

Jetpaw twitched faintly, and then she finally went limp.

Stormshroud turned back to him with something like hungry anticipation glinting in his blue eyes.

"You and your petty friend are next," he growled. "I need to get at least _one _kill before we leave."

Silverflame glared at the blue cat with murderous green eyes, and promised coldly, "I will _kill _for what you have done today."

Stormshroud shrunk back in mock-terror, then he straightened up and sneered. "Did you _love _her, little warrior?"

Silverflame was too angry to reply, and he realised that it was a grave mistake.

Stormshroud lunged at him, and Silverflame swerved to the side to avoid the hit.

The blue cat was too fast, however, and the only thing Silverflame earned was a trail of fire across his pelt.

"No one will hear you scream," Stormshroud promised darkly, and he lunged once more.

The larger cat got too close, and Silverflame could see his own reflected back at him, green eyes wide in fear.

Stormshroud raised his paw, and Silverflame instinctively flinched.

"Oh, what's this?" Stormshroud took a closer look, and he smirked. "Kit abuse for you, too, huh? Guess we more in common than I realised. I think that I'll keep you alive, if not to just torment you with the knowledge that you could have done something to save your friends."

Then he raked unsheathed claws across Silverflame's neck.

Silverflame choked, falling to his stomach.

Stormshroud stepped back, and he said, "Pity that you're so weak. I really could have used an extra cat." He turned to Shroudstorm. "Shroudstorm, have you killed the ThunderClan deputy yet?"

"Left him to suffer," the grey tom answered gruffly. "He'll die in the long run, anyway."

Stormshroud sighed. "Let's just leave before a patrol comes looking for us," he muttered. "ShadowClan is so dreary. I can't wait until it's _gone._"

And then they were gone, just like that.

Silverflame lay there, bathing, _drowning _in his own blood.

He was sure that Larkflight and Jetpaw were already dead, and he, himself, was greviously injured.

He shut his eyes.

He knew nothing.

**. . .**

Silverflame woke up with a gasp.

His neck ached something fierce and his pelt felt as though it were on fire.

He struggled to sit up and examine himself.

His long, silver fur was matted in areas and stained with blood. Ugly wounds were borne witness to his tired eyes.

Then, he remembered how he had gotten them.

Silverflame lurched to his paws, hissing and grimacing from the pain the entire way.

"Jetpaw, Larkflight," he breathed. "Where are you?"

Then his eyes came to rest on a small, motionless figure a few tail-lengths from where he had initially collapsed.

It was jet-black.

"Jetpaw," Silverflame mewed, his eyes widening in increased horror. "No..."

Silverflame had to _crawl _over to Jetpaw's prone body becuase the pains of his wounds were too great to bear.

A shallow rasp escaped from Jetpaw's lips, and Silverflame felt his hopes rising, she still lived!

He bent over her, hissing in pain as he did so.

"Jetpaw," he whispered, gently shaking her with his paw. "Jetpaw, wake up."

The rasp sharpened into a hiss, and ever so slowly, Jetpaw's eyes fluttered open.

The wound in her neck glistened against her dark fur, and Jetpaw shut her eyes briefly from pain, arching slightly.

"It hurts," she whimpered, but her crystal blue eyes were filled with resignition, and a blind, blind hope that, maybe, she might survive this after all.

"It's going to be okay," Silverflame soothed. "I'll get you back to the camp and Darkflower will fix you up. You can even see your brothers."

Jetpaw emitted a short, choked up laugh that sent a bubble of blood trickling from beneath her parted lips. "Don't be a mouse-brain, Silverflame," she whispered. "This wound is too big. I'll either bleed out or pass out."

Once again, that strange wisdom that Silverflame had seen moons ago was once again present on her face.

She seemed older, somehow.

"But before I die," Jetpaw murmured, her blue eyes wide with pain. "I want you to tell my parents and my brothers that I love them."

Silverflame nodded, his grief too great to even speak. He would do that for her. He would do _anything _for her.

"And, Silverflame?" Jetpaw was gazing at him now, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Yes?" he forced himself to say.

"I love you," she choked.

It only took a few moments, but Jetpaw did the unforgivable.

Her body went completely still.

And then Silverflame realised what had happened.

Jetpaw was dead.

Jetpaw, his beautiful, innocent apprentice, was _dead._

A sudden groan alerted Silverflame to another presence, and he was suddenly on the defensive.

A mass of bloody white fur lay a few tail-lengths away fromhim, and Silverflame knew who it was at once.

Silverflame gazed at Larkflight with a mixture of trepidation and hopelessness.

How was he going to save Larkflight when he couldn't even his own apprentice?

Silverflame swallowed harshly and swiftly grasped the ThunderClan deputy by the scruff and dragged him upright, letting Larkflight rest against his shoulder.

The white cat sagged against him gratefully, and Silverflame murmured, "I need you to walk with me, Larkflight. It's the only way that we can get back to the camp."

Larkflight didn't reply, and Silverflame spat, "Fox dung, Larkflight! I need you to work with me, or else we'll both die out here!"

Larkflight sighed softly, and the white warrior shakily moved his paws with Silverflame, still supported by Silverflame's stromg frame. His paws were like dead weights, and they slid against the cold, dead grass.

It took them a long time to reach Jetpaw's body, but when they finally did, Silverflame bent down and picked her up by the scruff, his entire body protesting as he did so.

"Right," Silverflame sighed. "Now all we have to do is repeat this and then we're home free."

Larkflight merely groaned in response, and he struggled to keep up with Silverflame's sluggish pace.

Silverflame's entire body groaned with the weight he was carrying, but he forced himself to press on, Jetpaw's death weighing heavy in his heart.

Night was beginning to fall when Silverflame and Larkflight staggered into the camp.

Gasps resounded as cats took in their exhausted, blood-stained visage.

Darkness tinged his vision, and Silverflame felt himself go limp.

The world span and everything faded away.

**. . .**

The next time Silverflame woke, it was to the sharp, acrid smell of Darkflower's den.

He groggily opened his eyes and blinked blearily.

The world swam into view.

He was on a bed of mess in Darkflower's den, and suddenly, everything that had happened rushed back to him with startling clarity.

Jetpaw was dead.

Silverflame stifled a sob against his paws, but the tears still slid down his face.

_I've failed you, Jetpaw_, he thought.

He wiped his tears away roughly when he remembered something, or, more specifically- _someone._

"Larkflight?" his voice was raspy from disuse and Silverflame wondered how long he had been sleeping for.

"I'm right next to you," a weak voice to his left mewed.

Silverflame looked to the side sharply.

Larkflight was lying on his own bed of moss, his white pelt sleek and criss-crossed with scars.

"Are you well?" Silverflame asked.

Larkflight chuckled weakly, and when he spoke, there was nothing humorous about his tone. "I'm no longer able to fight," he mewed. "So Froststar was forced to replace the deputyship."

"Who did she lose?" Silverflame said.

The former deputy didn't hesitate. "Foxheart," he replied simply. "A bit young, but otherwise, I don't think she could have chosen better."

Silverflame sighed, casting his eyes around Darkflower's den. "How long have we been here for?"

Larkflight shrugged. "You've been sleeping for three days," he mewed. "And even now that you're awake, I don't recommend that you wander around."

Ignoring Larkflight's warning, Silverflame shakily got to his paws and padded toward the entrance.

By the time he reached the nursery, his body was screaming in pain and silent tears were streaming down his face.

He saw Mistfur, and when the latter saw him up, he sharply mewed, "What are you doing up?! You're still injured, you need to be resting-"

"I'm sorry," Silverflame interrupted, and before Mistfur could say another word, he buried his face in the smaller tom's shoulder. "I'm so, _so _sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" Mistfur's voice cracked as he continued, "It's not your fault. Larkflight said that you defended her until you collapsed. And I'm so, _so _thankful that you were there in my daughter's final moments, Silverflame."

Silverflame knew that his old friend was crying, and that his mate had joined in.

When he finally pulled away, his face was wet with tears, and despite what Mistfur said, it didn't ease the horrible guilt gnawing at his cheat.

"I'm sorry," Silverflame whispered. "But I have to go."

Mistfur let him go with a complaint, and for that, he was grateful.

When he was outside, he immediately headed to the most deserted part of the camp.

He stood there for StarClan knows how long until a voice interrupted his mental pity party.

"Stop blaming yourself, Silverflame," Honeypelt said firmly. "It isn't your fault."

Silverflame looked at her through hollow green eyes.

Without warning, he approached her and pressed his muzzle to the top of her head. He felt her surprise, but she didn't make any moves to push him off, and that reassured him somewhat.

"I was the only one conscious, Honeypelt," Silverflame murmured. "I was the only one _awake. _I could have done _something_."

"But you couldn't," Honey reminded him gently. "So stop being so hard on yourself, Silverflame."

Silverflame wanted to believe her, he really did, but as he sat there, inhaling her scent of wild flowers, he realised something.

"When did I fall in love with you...?" he murmured absently, his green eyes wide and sad.

Somehow, he felt _ashamed _at admitting this fact. Almost as if he wasn't worthy of love and happiness.

Well, if he was thinking such horrible thoughts, than Nettlefur had _really _screwed up his mindset.

At his abrupt confession, Honeypelt didn't pull away as he'd expected her to. No, she seemed to _melt _into his hold.

She didn't appear to be disgusted, either. The only thing Silverflame felt from her was her aura of gentleness and concern, and it engulfed him like a warm blanket.

"I accept your love," Honeypelt murmured softly, reaching up and licking him gently on the cheek.

Silverflame was sufused with warmth at her gentle touch, and he leaned into her further than he had intended.

Honeypelt was such a sweet cat, and Silverflame realised thay _any _cat could have captured her heart.

But instead, Silverflame had.

"I love you," he murmured, reaching up with a paw to tenderly touch her face.

The golden warrior leaned into his touch, smiling up at him faintly. "I fell in love the moment you saved me from Nettlefur," she admitted softly.

Silverflame smiled gently, but his grief and guilt seemed to overpower his love. "Will you be my mate, then?"

"I don't need to say yes for you to know my answer, Silverflame," Honeypelt murmured.

That was all the confirmation Silverflame needed.

**. . .**

Five moons after they became mates, Honeypelt had some life changing news for Silverflame.

"Silverflame," Honeypelt mewed. "You know the cramps that I've been experiencing the past few days?"

Silverflame nodded warily. "Yes."

Honeypelt beamed so brightly that he was surprised that it didn't crack her face. "I'm expecting kits, Silverflame," she murmured. "You're going to be a Daddy."

Silverflame felt his heart contract at the news. "Do you mean it?" he whispered.

Honeypelt nodded happily.

Kits! He was going to be a Father!

Somehow, this thought didn't frighten in the least.

"I'll love them as much as you and more than StarClan," he vowed. "But right now, you need to move into the nursery."

Honeypelt playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, _okay_!" she laughed. "I'll get onto that."

Silverflame smiled tenderly down at her. "I love you," he murmured.

Honeypelt smiled. "I love you, too, you mouse-brain. Now let's go."

Silverflame allowed his mate to lead him to the prison that he had hated and loathed for the first six moons of his life.

The nursery.

As soon as he entered, a particular scene caught his eye.

Goldenlily's only remaining son, Ashkit, was standing in the far corner.

Now that he was six moons old, Ashkit looked remarkably like his departed Father, Mistfur.

He wasn't that eager kit that had dominated him before Jetpaw died.

No, he was closed and cold, nothing like the cheerful Father that he so painfully resembled.

Four moons previously, Silverflame's dearest and oldest friend had caught greencough and had later died from it.

Silverflame missed Mistfur desperately, but nthing could bring the cheerful tom back.

Ashkit hated him.

And Silverflame didn't blame him.

His only sister was killed on a routine border patrol, and not a moon later, both his brothers and his Father succumbed to greencough, later dying, so how _did _Silverflame know how the kit felt?

Obviously Ashkit had never been hated by his Father or abandoned by his Mother- he had been loved from the moment he had been concieved, and that love had only heightened when Goldenlily had lost the rest of her family to sickness.

But then again, Silverflame had never had any sibilings to lose- Mistfur was the closest thing to a brother he had known.

But now that he was dead, the only cat that Silverflame had was Honeypelt.

That, and his unborn kits.

"Ashkit," Goldenlily suddenly sighed, her amber eyes sad. "Why won't you let me groom you? It's your apprentice ceremony today."

Ashkit stiffened, and when he turned to look at his Mother, his eyes, so much like Mistfur's, were conflicted and angry.

Like shards of ice.

Goldenlily sighed again, and she murmured, "Ashkit, what would your Father say? What would Mistfur?"

Ashkit's lip curled into a pained grimace, and he spat, "How can he say _anything _when he's _dead_?"

"Ashkit..." the golden queen sounded pained, anf as if she'd noticed her foster-daughter sitting glumly at the side, she said, "Blackkit, can you _at least _convimce your brother to come out today?"

"Don't you understand I don't _want to come out_?!" Ashkit hissed coldly, and his river-blue eyes were spiteful as he gazed at his foster-sister.

Then, as if noticing the other occupants of the nursery, Ashkit sneered, "If it isn't the great apprentice murderer, _Silverflame_! Come to steal kits this time? I bet it was _you _who stole Rosestream's kits four moons ago."

"_Ashkit!_" Goldenlily berated sharply, and she turned apologetic eyes to Silverflame. "I'm really sorry, Silverflame. Ashkit's not usually like this."

"It's fine," he answered coolly.

But Honeypelt wasn't having anything of it, and she snapped, "You really are clueless! and spiteful! Do you have any _idea _what Silverflame went through when he was a kit at the paws of his Father-"

"Honeypelt!" Silverflame snapped sharply, and his mate turned a shocked eye at him. After all, he _never _snapped at her, and she had known _first hand _what he had gone through as a kit and an apprentice at the hands of Nettlefur.

"That's enough," he said softly, raising a single paw to silence her, his green eyes cold and aloof. "And I ask you to _never _repeat that. What happened remains between you and I, Honeypelt, and I hope to keep it that way."

Goldenliky seemed to catch on, and she cupped a paw to her mouth, looking sorrowful. "Oh, Silverflame," she murmured.

"He can't touch you anymore, Silverflame!" Honeypelt declared. "And don't think that I don't hate the Fox-heart what he did to you! And me, too!" she added at the end.

Silverflame bowed his head so that all he could see was silver fur and faded black tabby stripes.

Silverflame reflected on events that had happened moons ago, when he had asked his Mother of who he resembled the most, and for a short period of time, he felt like that curious, innocent kit from all those seasons ago.

"Who do I look like the most, Mummy?" he had asked as his Mother had curled around him.

"You are a spitting image of me, my love," Silverbreeze had purred. "But your eyes you inherited from Nettlefur."

Silverkit had then yawned and curled into her warmth, sleepily mumbling, "I'm glad I look like you, Mummy, 'cause then I'll love others like _you _do."

Unknowest to him, Silverbreeze had murmured, "You do not want to love like I do, my dear. My love is a curse, and all who fall under my love are doomed, and I have allowed myself to love you, my sweet son."

Honeypelt's voice was what made Silverflame jolt back to reality, and he frowned.

"_Finally_," sighed his mate. "I was afraid that you would be too caught in your thoughts to answer."

"And that is?" he looked at her expectantly.

"What do you want to name our kits?" Honeypelt inquired bluntly.

Silverflame felt a blush warm his cheeks, and he mewed, "They're obviously not due for another two moons, so why do we have to do this now?"

Honeypelt rolled her eyes. "Always the one to leave things 'till the last minute," she muttered.

"And that's _exactly _why I do things like this," Silverflame reminded her. "Because it becomes _much _easier in the long run."

"It means that you're a lazy mouse-brain, Silverflame," Honeypelt mewed bluntly.

Silverflame rolled his eyes somewhat sarcastically, thoughnwhen he spoke, the deep timbre of his voice was warm, "And _you _are, too."

He yelped slightly when his mate knocked his head lightly with her paw. "Just go to bed already, you mouse-brain!"

Silverflame grinned, his green eyes sparking. "I'm going, Honeypelt," he purred.

And he did.

**. . .**

Two moons passed, and with every day that passed, Honeypelt's belly steadily grew bigger.

Despite being terrified that he would do something wrong in the upbringing of his kits, Silverflame found that he was excited.

The days were filled with hunting and border patrols, but Silverflame couldn't be happier.

He had a beautiful mate, and kits were on the way.

His life was plentiful, and Silverflame could almost forget the treatment he had been subjected to as a kit and an apprentice all those seasons ago.

But no matter what Silverflame did, he would always remember. Remember his Mother's abandonment and his Father's horrible treatment. It was like a dark cloud over him that refused to dissipate.

And everything was changed as he knew it with the arrival of two cats in ThunderClan.

Silverflame was there when Froststar announced the safe return of Rosestream's kits.

He had been shocked, and he _knew _that the kits' Mother was dead.

And Silverflame remembered, all those moons ago, the heartbreak and love in Rosestream's crystal blue eyes, and of the tenderness and care in Thorntail's holly-green gaze, that vicious ShadowClan warrior that Rosestream had fallen in love with.

The kits, Fernpaw and Leafpaw, weren't assigned mentors, but rather cats for them to work with until a proper mentor could be found for them.

Silverflame walked away after that, he had no such ambitions to become a mentor. He had already failed once.

The next morning, Silverflame left the warriors' den with the intent to visit his mate in the nursery. Honeypelt was due to give birth any day now.

Silverflame felt a purr rumble in his throat, he was incredibly excited, and he _knew_ that he would be a better Father than Nettlefur ever was.

And he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the potential collision before it hit him.

_Thud!_

Silverflame felt something briefly press against his chest before rebounding straight off.

Surprised, he looked down.

Eyes green as holly leaves pierced his.

It was Rosestream's kit, Leafpaw!

She was small, and she was incredibly skinny. Silverflame could glimpse her ribs beneath thick ginger fur.

"Took a tumble there, little one?" Silverflame mewed.

The young apprentice looked up, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Y-Yes," the kit stammered.

Silverflame eyed her thoughtfully, then mewed, "What's your name?"

The kit looked at the ground, mumbling, "Leafpaw."

"Ah, you must be one of the young ones that Froststar instated into the Clan," Silverflame remarked softly. "Who was your sister again?"

"Fernpaw," Leafpaw replied, shyly averting her eyes to the ground. "What's your name?"

"Silverflame," he replied simply. "And where were you off to in such a hurry, little one?"

Leafpaw cast her eyes to the ground, tears pooling in her holly-green eyes. She didn't reply, and Silverflame didn't expect her to.

He felt a sudden flash of compassion, and before he knew it, he had pressed his muzzle to the top of her head and moved his body closer, allowing her to take in his warmth.

Silverflame thought that it was the least he could do, if only because she had reminded him of himself in his own vulnerability.

"I'm s-sorry," the apprentice sniffled.

"Now, now," Silverflame murmured, and he found that he liked holding her like this- it reminded him of when Silverbreeze would hold him when he was scared. "Will you tell me what's wrong, little one?"

"E-Everyone h-_hates _me," Leafpaw muttered, dipping her head.

Silverflame knew that it was natural to be suspicious of strangers, but what he _did _know was that ThunderClan did _not _hate Rosestream's precious kits.

But Silverflame needed to why Leafpaw thought her own Clan hated her, and he mewed, "Why do they hate you?"

"My _temporary _mentor, Darkfire, instructed Ashpaw and I to perform a hunting crouch, but before I could fall into position, h-he _insulted _me, as well as my Mother. And when I told him to stop it, he just laughed and _dismissed _me, saying that I had to find a mentor on my own."

Silverflame nodded, that sounded like Darkfire all right.

"Did you go to Foxheart?" he asked.

"No," Leafpaw answered. "He has his own apprentice to deal with, not to mention Fernpaw..."

Silverflame gazed at the apprentice's curiously pleading decision, and he made his decision.

_I'll be your mentor, Leafpaw_, he decided silently.

**. . .**

Moons passed after that fateful decision, and Silverflame had not regretted it.

Four moons had seen the birth of his kits and bestowing of his apprentice's warrior name.

In that time, he had also become the ThunderClan deputy.

Silverflame watched the sun set in the distance, his former apprentice sitting beside him, their fur brushing.

"I never _did _congratulate you on becoming a warrior, Leafstorm," Silverflame suddenly mewed.

Leafstorm seemed to jump, but she refrained from doing so.

His apprentice had grown beautiful in the past five or so moons. Her ginger fur was thick and soft and shined brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight. Her eyes were hardened gems of emerald green.

The pair talked and teased for awhile, and then Silverflame got to his paws.

The Gathering passed in a blur.

When Silverflame returned, he was tired, and he immediately fell asleep.

Aproximately an hour later, he was roused.

Ashfall's river-blue eyes gazed straight into his.

"Mistfur?" Silverflame mumbled incoherently

Ashfall froze. "I'm not Mistfur," he murmured coldly. "My name is Ashfall."

And that was how far the conversation went. Ashfall beckoned him over to a crowd of cats, and Silverflame mumbled, "What's going on?"

"Froststar called us here tonight," Ashfall replied evenly. "She said it was important."

And it _was_.

Because, not a moment later, Froststar appeared and swiftly explained that there were an army of rogues waiting for them at Fourtrees.

They walked the trail through the forest.

They arrived at Fourtrees.

Silverflame felt something lance through his chest when he saw who was waiting for them.

Stormshroud stood proudly, a cat with black fur standing behind him.

The black cat's eyes were gold, and Silverflame felt euphoria.

_Silverbreeze. _He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away the memories of a beautiful silver she-cat, pushing away the memories of his Mother.

"Breezefeather!" Leafstorm suddenly shrieked. "Get away from him, he'll _kill _you!"

Breezefeather turned, smirking darkly.

Stormshroud lunged.

The black cat deftly avoided the attack.

"Nice try, _Stormshroud_," Breezefeather sneered.

"As always," Stormshroud purred. "It really is lovely to receive compliments from you, Silverbreeze."

_Silverbreeze. _Silverflame freezed in shock. His Mother was here.

_His Mother was here!_

Silverflame didn't know how long he stood there for, but he snapped out of it when a piercing shriek ripped through the air.

He turned, and his heart leapt when he saw the ThunderClan leader lying in a heap on the ground, a bloody wound glistening through the white fur on her neck. Stormshroud stood over her, wearing a vicious smirk.

Stormshroud looked up.

Froststar twitched.

Their eyes met.

Stormshroud lunged.

Silverflame grunted from the impact, and immediately, he struggoed against the weight that had him pinned him down.

"If it isn't the little kit from all those seasons ago," Stormshroud hissed viciously. "I'll make sure to _end _you this time."

And then he bit down on Silverflame's neck.

_Hard._

Silverflame yowled with pain and tried to shake the former ShadowClan warrior off of him. But that only made Stormshroud bite deeper and harder, barely allowing to breathe at all.

"Silverflame!" A shriek ripped through the air.

The only thing Silverflame could see was Leafstorm's holly-green eyes, clouded over in anger and rage.

"Forgive me, I love you," he rasped through the blood pouring from his throat.

He thought about his kits, then, the kits that he would never see grow up. Of the mischevious Dustkit, the quiet and serious Breezekit, and the highly ambitious Lionkit.

And then he thought of Honeyeplt as darkness closed his vision. Of how much he loved and respected her, then to the glee that his Father would never touch them.

_You will never touch them._

He knew nothing.


End file.
